The Penthouse
by Demon-Something
Summary: It's 2016. Heather has taken control of an experimental facility. Some of the ex-Total Drama contestants start to disappear. Are they connected? Are the abducted ex-contestants dead? What is The Penthouse?
1. A New Line Of Work

Me: Hey, Tdiandrockmusic here with my first multi-chapter story, which takes some elements from Dollhouse, but not quite enough to place it as a crossover. This is gonna be GREAT!

Heather: Yeah, right.

Me: Oh, Heather, it's great that your here. You actually are pretty much the main character.l

Heather: I can live with that.

Me: Also, since your here, can you handle the disclaimer?:

Heather: Sure. HEY TELETOON PEOPLE AND POSSIBLY FOX PEOPLE! WHAT DO EXPECT THIS GUY TO OWN?!

Me: Thanks

----

Heather turned on the treadmill and pushed a few buttons; she had to keep herself busy. Laziness led to boredom, boredom led to thinking, thinking led to melancholy, looking back at what she had done. She got herself going to eight miles an hour, and then played "Everlong" by the Foo Fighters through her Zune. She liked this song, it distracted her more with questions like, What was the meaning of the song? What were the words being whispered in the middle? After about ten minutes, somebody rang her doorbell.

"If you're selling something, go hawk it to someone else!" she shouted, no one dared interrupt her evening.

She did however see a mail truck pull away from the curb. She stopped the treadmill, paused her Zune, and opened her door. A recycled-paper envelope lay on her doorstep, the kind report cards come in. She gingerly picked it up, and stepped back inside. She broke the seal and pulled out a letter and a plane ticket, apparently belonging to Delta Airlines. She started to read the letter

_Dear Heather Reid,_

_You have been reassigned from your current position in corporate espionage to a new one in New York. The details will be discussed on your arrival in New York City. Enclosed is a non-stop ticket. You have US citizenship, so you do not need a visa of any kind. The passport is also enclosed._

Heather looked up from the note, and reached back into the envelope. Sure enough, a navy blue passport with an eagle on it came out in her hands. She returned to reading the letter.

_I await your arrival. __**Do not be late.**_

_Sincerely,_

_Chris McClean_

Heather felt a bit happy, it was time she left Vancouver. The ticket was for a fight tomorrow at 10 A.M. She had one more night of sleep here, then she would catch the flight. She immediately went to pack.

***

Heather inhaled, and then exhaled. There had to be a reason she was in this hard seat covered in "leather", but was probably made wholesale in some factory somewhere. She diverted her eyes towards the windows, only to gaze at a bank of light gray fog obscuring the McClean Center on this very cliché Monday. No point in looking at the magazines, _Motor Trend _and _People_ held little interest, and she had already finished _Time_. The receptionist peered up from texting on some model of a smartphone and said that was ready to see her unenthusiastically. She gathered what little wits she had left, and turned the handle on the door. Before she could take a seat, said,

"Heather, thank you for coming, please seat yourself and listen."

"Yes ."

"Heather, please, call me Chris. Not only does make me sound old, you're pretending as if you don't know me, which we both know is not the truth," Chris continued in dull, somewhat monotonous tone.

"Yes Mr.…. Chris," Heather said. She also found this completely cliché, just like the weather. Here was Chris, explaining some task that was probably immoral while facing away from her and out the glittery blue glass headquarters of his and out to Central Park in a big black swivel chair.

"Heather, I've been quite impressed with your work in the Vancouver corporate espionage branch, and I've decided to promote you. You're in a different field of the McClean Corporation though. And not in telecommunications."

"And this new field would be?"

"Have you kept yourself up to date on our research and development?"

"Admittedly no, but please inform me."

"Have you heard on the news about our most recent breakthrough?"

"No, I haven't Chris."

Chris reclined in his chair, pushing the desk back three inches, then finally turned around to face Heather.

"We've finally been able to control forced mental manipulation."

Heather raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," he cleared his throat, and then continued, while leaning towards Heather and whispering, "We can erase minds."

Heather was now suddenly interested, and replied, "What are the practical uses of this _interesting _breakthrough?"

Chris chuckled, and the usual sadistic grin Heather (And twenty-three others who names she wanted to spit on rather than mention) feared for three summers of her youth.

"We can erase people's minds, and replace them with new skills, entire personalities. We'll rent em' out for anything; Corporate Espionage, Assassination, Body Guarding, and whatever people want with them, all for a pretty penny. I need you to oversee it. The project is codenamed "Project Mannequin". It will be based out of the Aurora facility. Floors 32 and 33."

"Uh, Chris, where am I going to get the people?"

"As for your employees, I've selected them, and you should know them. As for the Mannequins themselves, that's up to you. However, I have feeling who'll you want as Mannequins though." Chris finished.

"You're absolutely right Chris. Absolutely right."

***

Heather stepped out of the Chrysler 300C that had replaced the Crown Vic as New York's iconic taxi close to Battery Park. She looked up at her destination, the Aurora, a 46-story building housing most of McClean Corporation's more illicit activities in the region, ranging from simple corporate spying to housing half of New York's remaining Mafia bosses, all under the guise of a high-rise condominium building. Her black heels clacked as she strode in through the door held open for her. She walked up to the front desk to meet the receptionist, Abby. Abby was probably the biggest reason this place wasn't crawling with cops. She knew 32 ways to kill an NFL-player sized man with her bare hands, and that wasn't a wallet in her pocket, that was a pistol. She was also known for killing three private investigators that got too close, and was rightfully feared. All under the guise of a perky receptionist.

"Hi, can I help you in any way?" she said in a falsely perky tone, while scanning Heather to see if she was a threat to the activities in the building.

"Yes Abby, Chris sent me here. I'm running the," Heather peered down at the slip of paper Chris had given her, "The Penthouse."

"Ms. Reid, nice to meet you. You have the entirety of floors 32 and 33." Abby gave her a key, and pointed her towards the elevator. Heather clacked up to it, and pressed the up button. The doors opened twenty seconds later, revealing a thickly carpeted, mahogany paneled elevator. Heather stepped in, pressed 32, and the doors closed. Forty seconds later, the doors opened to find an expanse of unfinished concrete. The walls didn't even have drywall on them. The layout however, was interesting. Floor 33 was a ring of rooms and a half-wall looking down on Floor 32, with both levels connected by two copper-looking spiral staircases, and Floor 32 was a large open rectangle, with rooms under the ones on Floor 33. At the far end was a depression that maybe was supposed to be a swimming pool, and beyond that, a glass wall giving a view of Battery Park and the finally under construction 1 World Trade Center. Beneath her feet, a note broke up the uniform gray of the floor. It was in Chris' handwriting.

_Heather,_

_Glad to see that you made it. I would have decorated the place, but I had issues that are more pressing. Your employees are in the room marked Restricted to your left. They're preparing the equipment for use. May this be profitable for the both of us._

_Sincerely, _

_Chris McClean _

Heather looked to her left. Yep, there was a door marked Restricted. After more clacking of heels, she opened the door. There, now at attention was Harold, Beth, Noah, and Cody. All four had disgusted faces; that they knew off the bat they wouldn't like this.

"Oh, Heather," Beth said with grated teeth, while trying to not sound insulting, "So glad you're here."

"Yeah," Harold agreed in the same fashion.

"Well, I say we should focus on the more pressing matter; Why we're here, what we do, and what are we going to do with this place, rather than egg on our boss," Noah countered.

Heather decided to make him second-in-command, if such a position was possible.

Noah continued, "I already have tasks set up for each of us. Beth and Harold work behind the scenes, monitoring the Mannequins that will soon be here from a distance. I will work as the one who'll be with the Mannequins in plain sight, comforting them, making sure they don't get too aware of what's going on. This shouldn't be much of a problem, when your memories are wiped, you pretty much walk around like a dazed five-year old at 10 P.M. And finally, Cody will watch the mannequins do any tasks outside The Penthouse from a distance, as Beth and Harold will not be able to watch the rented Mannequin."

"Noah," Heather replied, with an impressed tone, "We'll go with that. Anyone have ideas on this place itself."

Cody then broke his silence, "How about we just store them. Make sure they're fed and clean, but just stick to the basics necessary to survive. It'll be economical."

"I don't know Cody, the Mannequins might get suspicious. I say make this place a "spa". All the mannequins will think they're here for relaxing after a mental breakdown or something." Beth suggested.

Heather was impressed; Noah and Beth had come up with two viable things to get this joint running.

"We'll go with that too, now we need to make this place habitable." Heather concluded

***

Heather gazed in a hawk-like fashion at Cody and Harold, who were struggling to carry a planter full of ferns. After nearly having it crush Harold, the two had slid it into a hole next to the swimming pool, which now had a dark blue glass tile liner, as well as a glass wall separating it from the rest of the facility. She looked out at The Penthouse, which could now pass as a penthouse. The open area of floor 32 was taken up by a front desk near the entrance, separated by a glass wall like the one separating the pool. The walls were now a comfortable-looking pumpkin color. The floors were now lightwood. A red rug had two chocolate covered couches and a glass topped coffee table on top, facing an average sized television. Heather climbed up one of the staircases, and peered into an open door, to find Beth hastily painting the walls a sky-blue, with darker blue furniture under plastic throughout. Heather then opened the door next to Beth's and stepped inside. This room had olive-green walls, with an antique distressed white wood dresser, desk, bookshelf, and bed with a gray comforter and white canopy. Heather took a seat in the easy chair. "_Perfect"_, she thought. She took out a list of names, and circled the first one. _"Just perfect."_


	2. Forced Insanity

YEAH! CHAPTER TWO! I'm so excited, this chapter should be _soooo _much better. And no typos! More importantly, do you really expect me to own anything. Fresh TV and Fox own all characters, bar Abby, and the basic premise.

***

From the green, gray, and white room, Heather sighed contentedly, The Penthouse was complete. Now all she needed were the Mannequins. She decided that unless they couldn't force them here, they had to be sedated, so whenever a capture had to be made, she would make sure all four of the nerds in her command would have tranquillizer guns. She looked at her list, first up, Duncan.

***

Duncan Davidson unlocked his door, let out Petey Jr., his Jack Russell, and turned on the TV. At that same moment, in an inconspicuous midsize sedan parked across the Street, Harold peered through Duncan's opened window with binoculars. He had begged Heather to be able to get him to The Penthouse; this was personal. He tucked the tranquilizer gun in his belt, untucked his shirt, and stepped out of the car. He strode up a fight of stairs to Duncan's apartment with a weirdly large amount of courage; Duncan no longer intimidated him. He rapped on the door quickly, and Duncan opened the door a few seconds later.

"Harold? No way, I thought you lived in Alberta, what brings you to South Carolina?" Duncan inquired. Harold noticed he had changed over ten years; he had shaved off his Mohawk, ditched his piercings, and had a slight grin on his face.

"I just was in town on business," Harold half-lied, "And I learned you lived here in Charleston, so I thought I'd visit you, see how you were doing."

"Okay, cool. Also, should have said this _loooong _ago, but I'm sorry for everything I did to you while on the show. I was sixteen and incredibly stupid."

Harold felt a twinge of sympathy for the man he had to abduct somehow. That apology sounded sincere. _"No,"_he thought, _"Just pity, for apologizing to someone who will always hate him."_

Harold was escorted to Duncan's kitchen table, where the two exchanged what two old friends who hadn't seen each other in years would. Jobs, pets, news, jokes, all of that was discussed.

"So Duncan, how are you and Courtney doing?" Harold asked.

Duncan's grin faded away, "We broke up years ago. In fact, I forgot about her. I think she lives somewhere in Rhode Island I think."

"Really, maybe I shouldn't have said that. For your information, LeShawna and I never really got romantically interested with each other, but I e-mail her, she lives somewhere in New York, the Bronx or Harlem or somewhere like that."

"Okay, it's better than forgetting your old girlfriend."

"Yes, yes it is. Also, I have one more thing."

"What?"

Harold held up the gun, filled with tranquillizer darts

"I still hate you Duncan," Harold said, then fired.

***

Sadie looked over at Katie, who was washing the dishes from the dinner rush. It was hard running a successful diner, even with help from your practical twin.

"Hey Katie, is DJ taking you on a _hot date_?" Sadie teased.

"Oh quit it, he's just driving me home while my car's in the shop. Stupid squirrel." Katie muttered.

"Okay, okay, don't get bent out of shape." Sadie replied, "Oh look, here he is!"

"Okay, bye Sadie!"

"Bye Katie, I'll handle everything for thirty more minutes!"

Outside, in a white van parked across the street from Katie and Sadie's, a diner operating out of an old Waffle House, sat Cody. He was ashamed to have to take Katie, but it was either take her or have Heather eat his heart for breakfast. He silently watched as Katie opened the door to the diner, and he stepped forward, into sight. DJ noticed him in his car. He turned his head and exited his car.

"Cody, great to see you!" DJ exclaimed.

"Great to see you too DJ, I was just passing through here, and apparently I ran into you… and Katie," Cody replied, while pointing to Katie, who was now out side, having left the diner.

"Cody! Wow, I can believe you're here. Other than Sadie and DJ, I haven't met anybody from Chris' torture fest since the reunion like, eight years ago!"

Katie let out her signature squeal, and gave Cody a bear hug.

"Katie, it would be really nice if I could breathe, just saying."

"Sorry Cody," Katie apologized, and let go of Cody.

"So, what have you been doing since Total Drama?" DJ inquired.

"I've been working on a project to make 100 percent biodegradable bioplastics that would replace the need for plastics made from petroleum products." Cody lied, there was no way he would say what The Penthouse was.

Katie and DJ gave Cody puzzled looks, and a quick "Huh?" escaped DJ's mouth.

"I'm making plastics out of corn that don't spend forever in a landfill." Cody explained.

"Oh," DJ and Katie said in unison.

"But I did come here for a reason guys," Cody continued.

"Well, what is it?" Katie asked.

"This," Cody said as he whipped out the tranquillizer gun. He immediately shot DJ, who crumpled to the ground. Katie took off running; Cody chased after her, tackled her, and began to drag her to the van. Cody noticed a figure in the window of the window. "_Sadie!"_ he thought. He grabbed an actual gun from a holster on his belt, and fired it at one of the windows. He wasn't sure if hit Sadie or not, because he turned around and threw Katie on the van's floor and locked the door.

***

Sadie rushed out of the kitchen, she saw somebody tackle Katie. She also saw DJ crumpled on the ground, was he…dead? Then, just before Katie was dragged into a van, a gunshot broke through the plate glass window, and pierced her arm. She collapsed to the checkerboard tile floor, the black and white slowly turning red. Sadie thought she heard one last scream from Katie, before blackness settled in.

***

Beth parked an inconspicuous Toyota van outside some modeling agency. She just sat in her seat for a couple minutes with the engine off. _Relax Beth; this will go all right. It's not like you're taking Lindsay." _The thought made Beth cringe more, she used to work at the same agency as Justin, who she was supposed to take. "_Besides, this is Justin, you _HATE _Justin, that stupid arrogant airhead who's only gotten by on his looks."_ She thought somewhat maliciously. She exited the Toyota, and headed for the door of the modeling agency. After putting on her friendliest smile and asking Justin's whereabouts, an employee down a few halls and into a large room led her down the hall. It was all dark except for a beach background, which had a spotlight on it, and the flashing of cameras. Four models, two men, two women were posing in assorted swimwear.

"Uh, can I speak to Justin Garcia please?" Beth said to a security guard.

The security guard was won over by Beth's smile she had displayed in the lobby, "Yes missy," he replied, "Hey, Mr. Garcia, this lady needs to talk to you!" he shouted.

"Hold the shoot for a while, I'll be back soon!" commanded an all-too-familiar voice.

"Justin, it's great to see you!" exclaimed Beth with a somewhat too-perky tone.

"Uh huh," Justin replied, with a definite lack of interest in his voice, "Please explain why you're interrupting my shoot for ALBATROSS & FINCH! You don't get paid to do shoots for them by talking to ugly nerds you know." He responded smugly.

Beth restrained herself from shooting him with the tranquillizer gun Heather gave them in case their targets could not be taken conscious in plain sight. Instead, she kept her perky tone and said, "Justin, I actually have a new model for you. She's outside."

"Really," Justin's voice sounded interested, "You do manage to have attractive friends, like Lindsay."

The mention of Lindsay's name made Beth flinch on the inside, she had "Target" written all over her, being an attractive, young, blue-eyed blonde-haired woman.

Beth began to lead Justin out of the studio, and back down the halls. After getting outside, Justin broke from his hopeful silence.

"So, where is she?" he inquired with noticeable impatience.

"She's still in my car, putting on her make-up." Beth lied while leading Justin into the parking lot, where it was less likely for anyone to see the two of them. After leading Justin to her car, Beth shivered; this was going to be hard to do, even if it was Justin.

"She's in here Justin," she said with a trembling voice, opened the side door of the Toyota van, and pushed him in. She shut the door and locked it, but it didn't muffle his screams. Beth got in the driver's seat, and fired a tranquilizer dart at Justin; he immediately went silent.

***

Gwen and Trent took one of their daily walks in the park, especially on a day like this; it usually didn't get to be 90 degrees in Seattle. They didn't find it all that suspicious that nobody was in the park, it was noon on a Wednesday, and nobody _actually_ _relaxed_ during their lunch break. What they didn't know was that Heather had the park cordoned off.

"Hey babe, you want to get some ice-cream; it's a scorcher today." Trent asked while putting his armed around Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen blushed, and agreed, it was nice to be married, especially to Trent. "Sure, it's _way _too hot to be normal today." she agreed.

The two noticed an ice-cream cart, and walked towards it.

***

Noah sighed, he didn't want to do this, he had too much of a heart. Nobody knew his abrasive personality had softened out over the years, or that he considered Gwen to be like him, a loner, unenthusiastic, but then gaining a sense of trust, making friends. He could trust, but nobody was close to him, because they didn't want to be associated with him at all. _"I know I've bitten off more than I can chew," _Noah thought, _"No, I've been force-fed, and I'm about to choke"_ . Incidentally, he felt sick at that moment when Gwen and Trent stepped up to the cart that was part of his disguise.

"Hey!" Trent said to "the ice-cream man", "I'd like a fudge bar and my lovely lady with me would like one of those orange Popsicle things please."

Gwen blushed again, Noah thought she would. After all, _he _would be a bit embarrassed if somebody flattered him to someone else. Noah figured he'd just do it now, get it over with, if they got away, Heather would kill him. At least if he did succeed, he could at least atone for his mistakes in his future. He yanked off the apron, glasses, and moustache that made his disguise, whipped out the gun, and hit the both of them before they knew what hit them.

***

Lindsay looked at her bedside clock, 2:24 in the morning. "_Ugh, can't wait 'till morning." _She then half left, half fell out of bed to get a glass of water.

Tyler then stirred "Where ya' going Linds?" He slightly slurred.

"Getting water."

"Okay."

She placed her hand on the bedside table, and drew it back while inhaling; she must have placed her hand on her ring. Slowly, she proceeded down the stairs, and to the kitchen, oblivious to what was outside. Harold used the standard procedure for taking Lindsay. Instead of a huge brand-new van, he was in a battered Honda Insight. He opened the door just enough to get out, closed it slowly, and crept towards Tyler and Lindsay's townhouse. _"This is going to be fun,"_ he thought, he had never liked people like Lindsay. He felt bad about Tyler, he was teased on the show too, but more likely than not, he would have to go with Lindsay. After a minute, he saw a light flick on and made visible a female figure. _"Perfect." _Meanwhile,Lindsay finished filling the glass with water from the dispenser in the fridge. At the same time, Harold picked the lock. After finishing the glass, Lindsay noticed clicking noises coming from her door. She slowly walked up to it, and arrived just Harold burst through the door. Lindsay dropped the glass as Harold fired three darts at her stomach. She fell forward into Harold's arms, which dragged her away into the still of the night.

***

Courtney looked up at the clock hanging on her office wall, quarter till' five. _"Finally, I'll be able to get out of here." _Everybody hated mid-level managers. Bosses looking down on them, regular workers, the ones in the cubicles thought that they were the root of all their problems. She fiddled around with her computer for ten minutes, and then quickly moved down the hall, to avoid glares from those under her command. She inserted her card in the time clock, and opened the door to a Ford sedan parked right outside the door, and drove away from the parking lot. Meanwhile a block away, Harold sat in the same Insight as last night, it wasn't far from where Lindsay lived in Massachusetts to here in Providence. He then shifted from park and tailed Courtney.

Ten minutes later, Courtney noticed that an old Honda behind her seemed to have followed her onto the freeway. _"Well, he'll probably get off before Newport, nothing to worry about. You're so paranoid Courtney." _Nevertheless, the car still was tailing her. Harold was confident; he had Courtney Marris, the crazy she-wolf in his clutches. He set the cruise control on the car and relaxed, the fun would come later.

***

"Okay, now this is _really _creepy," Courtney muttered to herself as she started descending down the bridge into Fall River, which laid out before her. The Insight still tailed her, and she was only fifteen minutes from home. She exited the freeway, and tried to lose him in the local traffic around Fall River and Tiverton. She noticed the Insight still behind her as she got back on the freeway at the Sakonnet Bridge linking mainland Rhode Island and Aquidneck Island, containing Newport. As she passed over the cable-stayed bridge, the Insight got closer to her. Then, as soon as there was a large grass shoulder, the Insight began to pass her, but then slammed into the driver's side. The airbags deployed, and Courtney immediately swerved to the side, and spent a moment in shock, wondering what to do next. The freeway was empty, and she swore that somebody got out of the Insight. Twenty feet away, Harold smirked, it was fun to hunt down his enemies, no matter how passive they became. He deepened his voice half an octave and called out

Hey, are you all right Ms.?"

He could see Courtney slowly nod her head. He finally stepped up to the driver's seat, and Courtney's eyes widened.

"Harold! What are you doing here?" Her eyes widened more when Harold whipped out the gun. "Wait, what's going on?"

Harold didn't answer, as he had already shot Courtney with three tranquillizer darts. _"Yes, this is just too much fun," _he thought

***

Heather stood in front of the Aurora, ready to go in. Then, her phone vibrated, and she took it out. Chris' number filled the screen. She quickly flipped it open, and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Heather, glad to talk to you, I see you already have six Mannequins, good job. You're about to activate the seventh one, am I right?"

"Yes Chris, you are."

"Good, I'd like it if you could join be in the Activation Room in The Penthouse, if you may."

Heather's eyes widened a bit, if this was screwed up; it would be off with her head. She knew that colleagues could disappear, and you were not to question their whereabouts.

"I'll be right up," she responded nervously, only the mighty Chris could intimidate her. She stepped inside, gave Abby the Lethal Receptionist a polite wave, and got in the elevator. When she arrived on Floor 32, she got a blank stare and an emotionless hello from Lindsay. She turned left, and entered the door marked Restricted that she had walked through. Now, it contained a blocky chair with what was nicknamed "The Crown", a ring of metal with electrodes hanging from it, plus a very large bank of computers to operate it. Overall, the room was very cliché looking, especially against the solid whiteness of the room.

"Heather, you're here just in time, we've been waiting." Chris said coolly.

Heather glanced around the room, Beth and Harold looked as if they actually had been waiting, Cody sat at the bank of computers not even focusing on Heather's arrival, and Noah was just staring out into space, slightly green.

"Ok, bring out Courtney!" Heather commanded. Harold immediately walked over to a door, and let out a gagged Courtney in a shallow closet, restrained by two belts attached to the wall. Harold undid the belts, and Courtney immediately undid her gag.

"What's the big idea, this is so illegal, I will sue! I still have my TDA lawyers in touch! You'll be penniless and imprisoned…" Courtney kept ranting, which was met with a "Shut up," from Harold with a sneer. She was thrown unceremoniously onto the seat containing The Crown, and metal restraints, like in the movies sprang out of the armrests. Courtney's rant morphed by a scream of pain and terror as a shock rippled through her. Harold smirked, he obviously enjoyed this, and Beth tried to find a distraction like Cody, overseeing the operation from the computers. Chris and Heather stared straight at her, and Noah watched with horror, he couldn't stand the screams and terrified stares, even after six times. After a minute, all of Courtney's memory was stored onto a file on the main computer, and Cody finally looked up.

"This one went well guys, we're doing great ," he said in an unfittingly laid-back tone, or so Noah thought.

Courtney looked up with a blank stare much like the other Mannequins, and let out a childish "Where am I?"

Heather immediately responded with "Oh, Courtney, you're here after your mental breakdown. Don't worry, you'll be alright after a while, okay," in a tone dripping with fake sympathy.

"Noah, may you please escort Miss Courtney here to her room?"

"Sure Heather," Noah replied, "Courtney, your room is this way, just upstairs."

Noah led Courtney up the staircase and to her room three doors over. He opened the door and let Courtney in. Before he closed it, Courtney asked,

"Have we ever met? I feel as if I'm supposed to know you."

Noah felt a wave of extra nausea come over him, and he barely managed to make it to the restroom before being sick. After leaving, he whispered to himself, "So the forced insanity begins."

***

Well that wraps up one chapter, the remaining ex-contestants' reaction is up next. And you'll have to find out if Sadie's dead, _next chapter._ I'm so evil... or not.


	3. Reactions

Another chapter, another disclaimer. Actually, I own Total Drama and Dollhouse…not. I will never own a thing. I think I've kept you waiting _waaaaaaay _too long with this chapter, so here ya' go. Hope it isn't too short.

***

Tyler turned on the news; he hoped he didn't sound stupid while being interviewed. Finally, the coverage on Lindsay's weird disappearance finally was on, a full week after, delayed due to the news' new passion; whining about the economy, as demonstrated in 2008. The gray haired anchor finally finished up his incessant chatter, and said.

"And now, we turn to our reporter, Kelly Lawrence, at the FBI headquarters for the strange string of adult abductions across the country."

The camera changed to the reporter, impeccably dressed and not a single brown hair out of place. Her mouth opened, "Kelly Lawrence here, at the FBI headquarters. The FBI has now started investigating on the disappearances of over 100 adults in their mid-twenties across the country. Their files seem to no longer be in government records, leaving only memories and personal records to ever show they existed. The best-known abductees are contestants from the cult-classic Total Drama reality series. The missing contestants are Trent and Gwen Landers, two artists from Seattle who met on the show. Courtney Marris, employed by an accounting firm in Providence, Rhode Island, Katie Black, a waitress from Topeka, Kansas. Duncan Davidson, a Lieutenant in the Air Force, living in Charleston, South Carolina, Justin Garcia, a director at a modeling firm in Long Beach, California, and finally, Lindsay Reynolds, a kindergarten teacher from Springfield, Massachusetts. We also have interviews from Sadie Holmes, who was injured during Katie Black's abduction, as well as Tyler Reynolds, husband of Lindsay…"

Tyler shut the television off, he had so much better things to do than watch himself say things he already knew, such as getting Lindsay back And he knew just who to call.

***

Izzy picked up the phone; you didn't get too many phone calls while in hiding, especially if you were hiding in the Yukon. _"But getting back at Owen was _soooooo _worth it."_

"Hello," she said eagerly, you never know who it was, it might be Chef, or it might be the CSIS. Obviously, she'd choose Chef.

"Hey Izzy, its Tyler."

"Oh, you're the scared-of-chickens guy!"

"No, and there are definitely more important things to say. But first, why are you hiding in the Yukon again?"

"I only blew up a McDonalds joint in Ontario so that Owen couldn't be able get his Big Macs when we broke up, I wonder why the RCMP was on me _again _So what did you want to talk about?_._" Izzy replied.

At the other end of the line, Tyler gulped. He was now starting to wonder if calling Izzy, the craziest person on the planet, was such a good idea.

"Uh, there kind of a problem, seven of the contestants are missing, and I think you can help."

Izzy beamed, this sounded like fun, "Ohmygosh, we can totally dress up as spies and rescue them from the nefarious organization that took them, and shoot guns and be on the borderline between cop and criminal and possibly die in gunfights. THAT SOUNDS SO AWESOME! I'll get the other contestants together, okay, and we'll all meet at your place, bye!" Izzy said the following sentences so fast; all Tyler heard was AWESOME, then hung up, and was left to wonder if Izzy even knew where he lived.

***

It wasn't all that hard to get the remaining contestants, at least, not if you're Izzy. As it turned out, Ezekiel was still on his farm tem miles away from Izzy's house. She swore he had a bit of a soft spot for her, he actually found the house and actually paid the mortgage, after Izzy gave him the money. She couldn't risk being seen by anybody. She did a back flip of excitement while getting out of her old Jeep Cherokee; she couldn't wait to be a spy. She rapped on the door of the white farmhouse, and thankfully, Zeke opened the door instead of one of his parents, they were such downers, saying she was crazy and all; she was not crazy! Izzy finally got out of her thoughts to find Zeke saying,

"Izzy, what are you doing here eh?"

"Huh?" Izzy was confused for a second, "Oh, yeah, hi Zekey! Tyler just phoned me and said that some of the contestants are missing, and that we need to rendezvous with him and become spies! Don't you want to be a spy, cuz' I want to be a spy. Y'know, wear suits with sunglasses and shoot at bad guys, IT'LL BE SO MUCH FUN, come on!" Izzy began to drag him away to the Cherokee.

"Are you sure this is good idea?" Zeke inquired, "You got us stranded in the woods for three days looking for Bigfoot. And then, Bigfoot ended up being a grizzly bear, remember?"

"Oh it won't end like that,"

"You said that when we went off looking for Bigfoot."

"Oh lighten up."

Ezekiel let out one last groan before reluctantly getting in the passenger seat.

***

Heather found herself back in Chris' office in the McClean Center, listening to Chris' talk about The Penthouse.

"Heather, since you started The Penthouse a week ago, I've been very impressed. The charges for the services the Mannequins have already brought in sixty thousand dollars, after paying yourself and your employees, as well as paying for that car Harold wrecked to get Courtney."

"Yes Chris, this has been very profitable, I hear your starting to build up a chain of these, am I right?"

"Yes, you are correct, we have 95 Penthouses worldwide now."

"Interesting, I'm considering getting more Mannequins, there really are a lot of rich people these days it seems."

"You're quite right Heather. Speaking of rich people, a _very _important client is coming in tonight; your reputation is on the line here. Do not fail me now."

Heather was dismissed from Chris' office and was guided to a cab

***

Tyler was watching some old chick flick on HBO. He remembered Lindsay saying it was one of her all-time favorites, and he'd do anything to keep the memories of her fresh. As a commercial break started, he heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Izzy and ten other contestants; Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Sadie, Sierra, Alejandro, Ezekiel, Eva, LeShawna, Owen, and even Chef Hatchet on his doorstep.

"Hey Tyler, told you I would be here. I got the other contestants plus Chef too!" Izzy exclaimed in her usual shrill tone. Her voice then sobered, "Also, here's something weird; I couldn't find Heather, Beth, Noah, Cody, Harold, or Chris-the-Creep. They may have been nabbed too," Izzy's voice returned to its normal tone, "Hey, are you watching The Devil Wears Prada?"

"Maybe," Tyler replied, "Okay, everybody, come in. I guess we'll discuss this or something." Tyler scanned the former contestants. Everybody looked virtually the same, except for Sadie, who was much slimmer and had her left arm in a sling. Tyler flicked off the TV, and everybody took a seat on the couch, the floor, or pulled a chair over from the kitchen table. After everybody was seated, Izzy stood up on her chair and banged on the wall, like a judge would with a gavel.

"Okay everybody; listen up, some of our Total Drama friends have gone missing. Courtney, Duncan, Lindsay, Trent, Gwen, Justin, and Katie are all confirmed missing. Beth, Harold, Cody, Noah, Heather, and Chris are not present, we shall have to consider them missing for the time being. Did any of us ever see any of our friends abducted?" Izzy asked.

Sadie slowly raised her hand. "Yes Izzy, I did see Katie's abduction. DJ did too, but he was hit with a tranquilizer dart, he doesn't remember a thing," DJ shook his heads in agreement.

"Describe the abduction Sadie."

"It was carried out by this guy in a white Toyota, I never saw him up close, but he did have brown hair. He talked with Katie and DJ for a bit, then tranquilized DJ and dragged Katie off to the Toyota. He also fired a bullet at the diner. You can probably guess where it hit, and I blacked out."

"So let me get this straight, over half of us are gone, and we have NO CLUE where they are or who took them! This is ridiculous, why did you have to bring us all the way over here to tell us that crazy girl!" yelled a frustrated Chef Hatchet.

"Because, replied Izzy in way a teacher would use when explaining something to a small child, "We're going to get them back!"

Everybody in the room then paled, there was no way on earth they would try going against an unknown foe, taking their friends for unknown reasons. Why, maybe the government made sure they didn't exist, because maybe they collaborated with terrorists or something.

"Uh guys," Ezekiel defended, "We all know Izzy's mental heath is questionable eh, she tends to be right... usually. I say we try to find to find them, we have no evidence now, but who knows what we have in a week. Heck, we might even…" Ezekiel's motivational speech was cut off by his phone vibrating, "Uh, that's my mom, I put it on speaker I guess, you can all tell her you said hi." Ezekiel pulled it out of his pocket and pressed the talk button. Before he could say hi, a screaming woman cut him off.

"EZEKIEL ROBERT JONES, WE KNOW YOU RAN OFF WITH THAT IZZY GIRL!!!!!! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE BIGFOOT SEARCH INCIDENT!!!!! WHEN SHE GETS YOU KILLED OR TURNS YOU INTO A BRAIN-DEAD VEGTABLE THAT WE HAVE TO SPEND THOUSANDS ON, DO YOU THINK WE'LL SHED A TEAR? NO!!! DON'T YOU EVEN DARE COME BACK, YOU… YOU… YOU SOMETHING THAT'S DESPICABLE I CAN'T OF IT RIGHT NOW!!!!!" The phone line then went silent. Everybody just hung their mouths open in shock, and averted their eyes from Ezekiel, who hung his head down, obviously trying to hide the hate in his eyes from Izzy. Finally, Geoff said softly,

"That was pretty harsh dude."

"Yeah, your mom does not have any right to act like that, we should know after all the e-mails and phone calls you sent off saying what always happens between you two. You can stay with me in New York until your mom cools down Zeke. Izzy, I would recommend coming too; going home and facing Zeke's mom probably isn't an incredibly good idea," LeShawna said.

"Uhhhhh, are you sure about that LeShawna," Ezekiel asked nervously.

"Oh sure, you need somewhere to sleep, right?"

"Thanks LeShawna," replied Izzy. She stood back up on her chair, "Okay everybody, we need to stay together somewhat. You may not know it, but before Owen and I broke up, I managed to make three million in the stock market, nothing huge."

Everybody gasped, how could Izzy become that rich and hide it, let alone say it as if it were nothing. Then again, she _was _crazy.

"I'll like, pay for hotel fees for all of you right here, if we stay together, we might manage to solve this, or at the very least, prevent ourselves from getting kidnapped. We'll get hotels around NYC, because maybe their held by some creepy corporation uh huh, as opposed to the government or something like that. Besides, spies blend into the crowd, and we totally can't do that here. My cousin Nathan, he like, kept sneaking around in the open, and whenever anybody saw him, they were 'Wow, what a freak' and all that. Soooo, who's with me?!"

Zeke and LeShawna glanced at each other and slowly raised their hands. Sierra raised her hand,

"If this means I get to save my dear Cody, I'M SO IN!" she piped in, her inner obsessive fangirl coming out.

Geoff and Bridgette both raised their hands.

"You need some military experience for this; I'M IN!" Chef Hatchet yelled.

Sadie raised her hand that wasn't in a sling, "For Katie."

DJ raised his hand, as did Eva. Owen raised his hand,

"We all should help in finding our dear friends," he said stoically.

"Uh, don't you have like a Wendy's to pillage or something" Izzy retorted.

"Maybe."

"Well, I'd be the odd man out here, and if seduction has to be done, I guess I'm the best candidate." Alejandro finished.

"Good, we have everybody, go Operation Hunt!" Izzy shouted in the same pose as the infamous 'YOU'LL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!' quote.

"Operation Hunt?" everybody asked at the same time.

"What, I had to name it something."

***

Heather watched the meeting through the monitor. How delightfully easy it was to just bribe one of them to be a double agent, just go along with Izzy's probably half-baked, no, _quarter-baked _plans, and get it all on video. Heather stopped the video feed, and changed it to security camera footage. The spa disguise was working beautifully, she noticed Noah giving Katie getting a massage in one room, Courtney in the music room playing something, most likely The Cranberries, and Justin swimming, with Lindsay weirdly fawning over him. _"Wait, Mannequins aren't supposed to have crushes." _Heather thought, _"This is really creepy." _She considered keeping the two apart, but she could not activate that plan as she heard the bell from the front desk ring. She clacked on her heels, red this time, to the front desk, where a man in a suit was waiting.

"Ms. Reid," he started, "Chris McClean sent me. I need a Mannequin."

"Of course, how may we help?"

***

And that wraps up the third chapter. In chapter four, the action _actually _starts, and you won't want to miss it. Tdirm out!


	4. Meetings and Uncertainty

Hey, Tdirm here with the next chapter. Sorry I took so long, I was away for Thanksgiving and I was working on my collaboration fic, _then _I get this strange writing disease in which I want to write, but only end up writing 200 words. But here's Chapter Four! Oh yeah, blah blah blah, I don't own a thing, yadda yadda yadda Teletoon and Fox do.

---

Heather quickly started escorting the man to the conference room. Before she could get there, she was stopped by Courtney.

"Who is he?" she asked while pointing to the man in the suit Heather was trying to escort.

"Oh, he's nobody Courtney. Tell you what, how about you go get a massage, which would be relaxing, right?" Heather replied, her voice sounding like am other telling a young child something bad they'd seen never happened.

"That would be relaxing… okay, I guess," Courtney said monotonously, her eyes blank and simply facing forward.

Heather whipped out her walkie-talkie, and spoke into it.

"Anybody busy right now?"

She immediately got responses. Beth was busy monitoring the Mannequins vitals, Cody was out supervising an "Outing" that Lindsay was sent on, that Heather personally didn't want to know the details on. Finally, Harold was cooking something in the kitchen; Trent had wanted an early lunch. That left Noah.

"Noah, would you _mind_ giving Courtney a massage?" she asked over the walkie-talkie, while stressing mind to show Noah that he really didn't have a choice.

Over the radio, Noah sighed, and said that he'd do it.

Heather turned back to her client, "Sorry about the interruption," she said with actual sincerity, something she hadn't done for quite a while.

The man in the suit replied, "Its okay, I see that you're very busy."

The two made it to the conference room, and Heather closed the door behind them.

---

LeShawna accelerated through Stanford; she knew she was going to hit bumper-to-bumper traffic in under fifteen minutes, so why not make up as much time as possible? She glanced back as Zeke and Izzy, who were _still _ogling the car after two hours. It wasn't _that _nice; it was a four year old Acura TSX, not even fully-equipped.

"How ya' guys doing back there?" She inquired.

"Oh, we're fine LeShawna; I just wanted to say thanks again for taking us in," replied Izzy.

"No problem, just doing what's right. Um, not to be insulting, but… could you please tell me why your treating my car like a priceless artifact?"

Izzy blushed, and Ezekiel looked away, focusing a blue-glass office building outside now that they, true to LeShawna's predictions, were now in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

"Sorry LeShawna, but it's the first car from this decade we've seen for a long while eh," Ezekiel said ashamed.

"Its okay, it's okay. Just don't do it all the time, I…" LeShawna was cut off by her Fall Out Boy ring tone, "I apparently have a phone call."

She flipped the phone open and immediately said hello. LeShawna said nothing for a few minutes, and then seemed to implode, speaking weakly and seriously out of character.

"What do you mean I'm fired? Didn't I say I'd spend two days off for personal issues? I mean, I created three of our best lines ever I… oh, now I understand. No, don't be sorry, blame it on the accountants; they don't know any of us personally. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll find a new company, and we can still have lunch sometime, so… yeah, I guess I'll go. Bye."

Zeke had an eyebrow raised, and was looking at Izzy, who was just as confused as he was, "What was that?" Zeke asked.

"LeShawna let out a sigh, "That was Caitlyn, a good friend from my design agency. Apparently, our expenses were higher than out revenue, so the ones in charge decided to fire an employee. That employee happened to be me. It's not so bad, it seemed like Caitlyn was crying, and most of the employees hated the decision, so they might try to hire me back but…" LeShawna then started to sob a little.

"Aww, its okay LeShawna, besides there are more fish in the sea… wait, you're not breaking up, uh, there are more jobs out there, trust me!" Izzy said a little too perkily, causing LeShawna's crying to intensify.

"But it was my dream job! Why did they fire me?" Zeke and Izzy decided to leave her alone for a minute, as the car finally made it onto Manhattan Island.

---

Harold smiled; it was fun toying with his enemies. LeShawna said he was creepy and stalker-ish, and he got rid of her job. It was quite easy to bribe CEO's to do whatever you wanted. Now both of them were even; or at least in Harold's mind. He stood attentively as the meeting with The Penthouse's new client begun.

"My name is Thomas Burke" the man in the suit started, "I'm the director of George Gershwin Theater, and we need a body-guard of sorts."

"Exactly why Mr. Burke is a Mannequin needed?"

"Do you know about our lead actress in the remake of _Wicked _we're releasing next month?"

"That old one-hit wonder pop star from 2013?"

"Yes, Amy Santos, she's playing Glinda in the script. You probably know that her husband died in that car accident two months ago."

"Yes Mr. Burke, I know about Mark Santos' death."

"Good. After the accident, Ms. Santos became a little… touched in the head. She's become more and more paranoid, and there have been several attempts on her life, Mr. Burke said while pulling a newspaper clipping about a falling spotlight nearly crushing an actress, "We have to protect her, but she keeps claiming that the security staff is trying to kill her. What we need is a Mannequin with a friendly personality to join the staff, become Amy's friend, and protect her as rehearsals are underway. Also, as luck would have it, one of our actresses in a different role had to drop out, giving us the perfect cover."

"Hmm, interesting, we'll accept your mission. Do you have any preferences for which Mannequin you would like?" Heather asked as she spread pictures of all the female Mannequins over the table. Burke paused for a moment to think, and then put his finger on Courtney's picture.

"I like her, we ran into her getting here, right?"

"Yes, you're correct."

"Oh, yes, Ms. Reid, the mission needs to start right now. Final auditions are this afternoon, and Courtney needs to be there."

"Very well, we were planning to give you her immediately anyway."

Heather turned towards Harold, who had been standing attentively throughout the meeting.

"Harold, you're in charge of tracking Courtney throughout the mission. Is that… _acceptable _to you Harold?"

Harold let out a sinister smirk; this was going to be a lot of fun, "Yes Heather, I'd _enjoy_ that."

"Good," Heather turned back to Burke and calmly said, "That'll be seven thousand dollars. Cash or check?"

Burke slowly wrote out a check, and Harold immediately left the room. Courtney was right outside, having finished her massage. Harold said nothing, just grabbed her wrist, and led her to The Crown. If it weren't for the soundproof walls, the Mannequins and Thomas Burke might have heard an electrical sound and screaming, but Courtney's suffering went to deaf ears, except for one.

---

Izzy finished unpacking, she had gotten LeShawna's spare room, Zeke's sense of chivalry formed after TDI had gotten him the couch for the duration of the stay. She folded and put the last blouse into the dresser drawer, and stepped out into the living room. Zeke was already curled into the fleece blanket given to him, watching a movie through LeShawna's On-Demand service. LeShawna herself was busy chopping lettuce for the chef salads they were having for dinner. Izzy broke the calm by whistling loudly. LeShawna nearly cut her hand with the knife she was using, and Zeke jumped up and fell off the couch.

"Okay, guys," Izzy started, "I'm officially bored already, so I'm going to head out for a couple of hours, okay,"

"Sure, whatever," Zeke replied while rubbing the steadily forming bump on his head.

Izzy grabbed LeShawna's keys off the kitchen counter, and headed for the building's elevator. _This is going to be awesome!" _she thought as she pressed the down button.

An inconspicuous Lexus parked at a reserved parking space in front of The George Gershwin Theater. Burke stepped out, followed by Courtney. At the same time, a familiar red-head strode down the sidewalk confidently. As the two were about to enter, Izzy was distracted by the flashing lights and bumped into Courtney.

"Oof!" Izzy exclaimed while getting the breath knocked out of her, "I'm so sorry…" Izzy looked up at the face of the person she had run into, "Courtney," she finished meekly.

Courtney looked at her with one eyebrow raised, "I accept your apology, but I'm not Courtney. Name's Vanessa. Vanessa Simmons; and yours would be?"

Izzy kept her meek tone, "Isabel Daniels. But I don't know one person who doesn't call me Izzy."

Courtney or "Vanessa", Izzy couldn't tell if it was Courtney lying or she had actually ran into a girl a lot like her in appearance, grinned, and pulled her up, "Are you auditioning Izzy, because I am."

Izzy regained her confidence, whoever she was; Izzy liked her, "Actually, I am. Just auditioning as an extra, you have to start small you know."

"Yeah, I know. I hope we both make it; I think we'd be great friends."

"Yes Vanessa, we would."

"It was crazy, first I bump into COURTNEY, but it wasn't said her name was Vanessa something, and then she says we'd be great friends, then we totally become them waiting to audition, then I'm casted as a chorus member, and she gets Nessarose!" Izzy explained to LeShawna and Zeke back at the apartment.

"Huh," LeShawna and Zeke said in unison.

Izzy sighed, "Nessarose is The Wicked Witch's little sister in the play, _Wicked,_ it's a pretty big role for a FIRST-TIMER!"

"It does seem very suspicious Izzy, I'll call everybody, they should be here in about half an hour, and then we'll talk about it" concluded LeShawna.

Sure enough thirty minutes later, everybody was in LeShawna's living room, sending nervous whispers around. Zeke cleared his throat, and he diverted everyone's attention to Izzy, who began to explain the events of her day Despite it dragging on for a good fifteen minutes, everyone paid attention, nobody gazed around the room, or got up to use the bathroom. Heather watched what Izzy said from The Penthouse, it was good to have a spy, to learn about moments like these. If Izzy managed to take Courtney, they might learn what had happened to her, and then they'd be toast, but she wasn't quite sure she could be arrested immediately. She wasn't sure if The Penthouse was illegal by current laws, but if the secret came out, she wouldn't take the risk, she still had her old place in Vancouver, and was looking at real estate in Costa Rica. But everything was safe, at least for now.

---

The next day, Izzy got to the theater just in time for the beginning of rehearsals, and couldn't help but notice Court… _Vanessa's _voice, which was so much better than the one Courtney displayed on TDtM, just for the sake of adding to the creepiness of this whole situation, and Izzy couldn't help but feel unnerved whenever Vanessa/Courtney said anything to her. _"There has to be an explanation to all this." _She thought, _"But all I need now is an explanation that doesn't involve Body-Snatchers."_

_---_

As soon as the rehearsals were done, instead of going straight to her own dressing room, Courtneyrapped on the door of Amy Santos' dressing room, which was met with a gruff cry of "Go away Burke!"

"I'm not Burke, it me, Vanessa!" Courtney cried back.

"Who?"

Courtney sighed, "Nessarose."

"Oh, you can come in… for a few minutes."

From the van parked a block away, Harold smiled his devilish, sadistic smirk; he was definitely going to get a raise when this Outing succeeded.

Courtney stepped into the dressing room, which was only a rack of Amy's costumes, a chair, and a mirror.

"I'm sorry if the room is a little bare, the more things in here, the more things the guards can kill me with," Amy explained in a sinister, foreboding tone, as if it would happen within the hour.

"Uh huh, Amy, why would the security guards try to kill you?"

"I don't know, all I know is that ever since I was casted, I keep hearing mentions that somebody wants my life, and then they bring up Mark. You don't think they killed him, do you?" Amy's voice was desperate; it was obvious she wanted somebody to believe her, that her theory was rejected by many.

"Amy, we don't know if anybody wants to kill you…" Courtney said, but was interrupted.

"Vanessa, you don't understand. First, a spotlight nearly falls on me, after I hear Burke mention my name after "as soon as she's under the spotlight" and then the boards on the stage give under me while I'm on the edge of the stage. Both of these incidents were cleaned up so fast, it seems like somebody doesn't want them to be known about."

"Relax; the crews took care of them so the show can go on," Courtney comforted.

"But…"

"Amy, no buts, nothing bad is going to happen. Tell you what, I know a great Italian place, we can go there right now if you'd like," Courtney offered

"Actually, I'd kinda like that Vanessa. You can say the directions as I drive or something."

The duo headed out the door, and ran into Izzy.

Courtney was quick with introductions,

"Oh, hi Izzy, this is Amy, who's playing Glinda, and Amy, this is Izzy, one of my friends who's a chorus member," Courtney started, "Amy and I were going to get dinner, there's a great Italian place nearby. Amy, would you mind if she came with us?"

Amy said she didn't mind and Izzy was whisked away into Amy's car. After about ten minutes in the car, Courtney led the two inside, Courtney's Vanessa Simmons personality had this place listed as her favorite restaurant. Another ten minutes later, Izzy errantly nibbled on bruschetta, looking at Court… _Vanessa, _ there was definitely something with her, but there was no way Courtney would lie about her name for that long, let alone act like she was now. She was snapped out of her thinking by Amy.

"Hey, Izzy, are you okay, you seem pretty out of it. You worried about something? I am. I'm really allergic to seafood, and that's a good chunk of the menu. If I consume anything that isn't shellfish and swims, my throat'll swell up and I'll die in less than five minutes and if I just …" Amy let out a stifled gasp and ducked behind her menu as a waiter passed.

"Is there anything wrong Amy?" Izzy asked; glad to take her mind off Vanessa.

"Yeah, something's seriously wrong. That guy who just passed was Jackson, one of the theater's security people. Something bad's going to happen really soon," Amy whispered nervously.

"Oh just chill already Amy," Vanessa stated, "How many times have we been over this?"

"A lot."

---

In the kitchen, a "waiter" was given Courtney, Izzy, and Amy's dishes. While walking out of the kitchen, he took out a bottle labeled Fish Oil, and dumped half of the contents onto Amy's pasta, then exited the kitchen, turned left, and reached their table. He set the plates down in front of the three women, and waited for a minute, presumably to hear what they thought of their dinner. As soon as Amy took a bite, he snatched the purse next to her, and started running.

---

Courtney looked up from her chicken and noticed a red and swelling Amy, who was trying to say something, but was getting more and more garbled by the second. She stood up and grabbed for where Amy's purse and allergy medication should have been, just to find air. She then turned around to find a man in a waiter's uniform dashing towards the door. She immediately started running after the waiter. Just before the waiter made it to the door, Courtney grabbed a water glass from a table and hurled it at the man. It hit him squarely in the back, and he fell forward into a glass window, and landed on the sidewalk from the street. Courtney ignored the groaning man, grabbed Amy's silver purse, and ran back to her table.

---

From the van, Harold grinned, he was definitely getting a raise for this, seeing Courtney take out that waiter and administering the allergy medicine to Amy, and an even bigger one if he found out who was conducting these murder attempts.

"Now all I need is an actual challenge to seriously make this fun," Harold thought aloud.

---

Izzy returned to the apartment at 11 PM, the police investigations had taken hours. Zeke was softly snoring on the couch, the fleece blanket covering everything except his head. Izzy figured if Zeke was asleep, so was LeShawna, so she quietly opened the door to her room, closed it just as quietly, and flopped down on her bed, not bothering to get into her pajamas, she knew that she wouldn't get any sleep, just like last night. _"Courtney, Vanessa, whoever you are, just leave me alone." _She thought, before shifting onto her stomach in an attempt for sleep, which was unsuccessful. _"Ugh, I hate you even more Courtney."_

---

Courtney arrived back at The Penthouse, "Vanessa" thought it was her actual home, as opposed to it being two states away. She was met by Noah, who then led her to the elevator, all watched by Abby, who wrote what she had seen in her notebook. "_They're going down," _she thought, _"Them, the organized crime, the McClean Corporation is going to go down in flames."_

---

Noah silently led Courtney into the room containing The Crown, he was in charge of wiping her for the night. He already had a couple times, so why was he feeling so sick about this? Just before he opened the door to the Crown Room, he swore Courtney's eyes went blank, like she had managed to wipe herself.

"Wait, oh my god where am I!" Courtney exclaimed. She grabbed him by the shoulder, and he was yanked around to find a very ticked Courtney. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Noah, is that you? Did Chris drag into another season? Haven't we suffered enough?" Courtney blurted, she seemed to be panicking.

"Courtney, don't worry. Just follow me, and everything will be alright," Noah said as reassuringly as possible while trying to hold down his dinner. Courtney had a "Please, I know better," look on her face.

"Yeah, that's a little vague Noah, saying stuff like that doesn't encourage trust. Besides, I'd like to know where I am first, if you don't tell me, I might…"

Noah waited for the inevitable for Courtney "sue", but her eyes now had the blank, empty, stare the Mannequins had while wiped.

"Did I fall asleep?" Courtney inquired in a somewhat childish voice.

"Uh, yes, yes you did," Noah replied, and led Courtney up the stairs to her bedroom; he figured she didn't need to be wiped.

---

Heather finished watching the tapes recorded by Harold from the van on Courtney on her computer in her apartment, an actual penthouse in McClean Center. She was not amused, how dare Harold let another one of the contestants get anywhere near one of the Mannequins. Harold would be reprimanded tomorrow, and somebody else would monitor Courtney, and do what was necessary to keep Izzy away. She then turned on the security tapes from the last hour from The Penthouse. Courtney's switch back to her original personality scared her; that obviously was not supposed to happen. If it happened at the right time during an Outing, they might lose a Mannequin, or worse, alert authorities about The Penthouse.

"But it's improbable," Heather reassured herself, "There's no way on Earth this will happen again, it's just a fluke, it's just a fluke,"

But part of Heather's mind said it wasn't.

---

Okay, that wraps up the long-overdue Chapter Four. I would have written the whole operation, but it was starting to get too long, and think of how much longer it would have taken. The rest of the operation will be covered in Chapter Five. What will happen to Izzy? What is Chris thinking of all this? Is Abby a spy? If so, for who? And most importantly, does Noah have feelings for Courtney? Find out in Chapter Five of THE…PENTHOUSE!!! (Man, I feel like Chris.)


	5. Horrific True Colors

Ok, it's been forever since I updated, but I decided to take a break, and I've been a little busier than usual. I've been doing things such as homework, having a life, and ranting about how Duncan won, and how he'll be in TDtM. Anyway, what the heck do you think I own? You know who it goes to by now.

---

Noah closed the door behind Courtney; there was something about her that Noah couldn't place. Maybe it was pity; it turned out she had been abused by her parents if she wasn't perfect, leading to her "must win at all costs" attitude. Maybe it was… a crush? Noah couldn't decide whether he was showing affection towards her, if he really cared about her, he would try to get her out. _"Why is everything so complicated now?" _he thought, and remembered why he was here.

_Noah curled up on the couch, an old Tom Clancy novel in his hands. Halfway the book, just before the US got the upper hand against the Soviets, a knock on his door beckoned him away from the novel. He turned the doorknob to gaze into a gun barrel, and a snarling Heather behind it._

"_You'd better come with me Noah," she threatened, "Beth, Cody, and Harold have already come."_

"_And if I don't come?"_

"_I'm planning something with the other ex-Total Drama contestants. You _won't _want to be a part of it Noah."_

_Noah was not fazed by Heather's vague threats, "Yeah, I'm so scared of something I don't even know," he replied in his classic snarky manner._

"_Noah, I'm going to control all of the contestants. I see serious potential in you; I want you to work for me and you'll get to retain your free will. How does that sound?"_

_Noah considered the situation; he knew Heather wasn't the type to be an excessive liar, and if he went along, he might get some stuff to turn into the police._

"_Whatever, I'll come," he said in his usual voice, "Just let me pack, okay?"_

Noah continued to stare at Courtney's door long enough to not notice Lindsay had been there until she piped in,

"Hey Noel, do you a little _crush _on Caroline?" she asked in a tone that said she already knew it. Noah errantly nodded his head, "Thought so. Don't worry, you're secret's safe with me."

Noah turned his head to see Lindsay with a snide "I know everything" grin. After a few seconds of silence, her eyes blanked and her grin morphed into an expressionless face.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked innocently.

"Yes Lindsay, yes you did," Noah lied; this was _definitely _a weird night. He decided he wouldn't tell Heather, only God knew the scale of the freak-out she would have, and He probably didn't want to know.

---

Meanwhile, in the lobby, Abby was talking frenetically into an old corded phone.

"Director Graham, I don't understand here. I have all the evidence on McClean Corp., so why can't we shut them down? Do you have any idea what they're covering up here?"

From the other end of the line, a gruff, tired voice replied, "Agent Clark, you know that McClean handles 40 percent of our country's media. We can't shut them down, especially now that they bought out Turner Broadcasting. Also, we know about The Penthouse; we can't release that. Chris McClean has realized that Penthouse tech can be spread through phone lines, e-mails, almost every electronic form of communication. If that falls into the wrong hands, it could be apocalyptic; a bunch of wackos shaping people to how they want them. That isn't acceptable. The CIA will have to let The Penthouse fly under the radar, either that, or the potential end of America as we know it, do you understand Agent Clark?"

Abby sighed, "Yes Director Graham."

"Good." Graham hang up, leaving Abby by herself on the edge of the lion's den that was the Aurora building.

---

It was Sunday May 14th, a beautiful spring morning in New York, but Izzy didn't care about it too much. Court…Vanessa just took up too much of her brain to notice almost anything these days. Izzy considered just forgetting about her and reverting to normal, but something said something was gravely wrong here. She turned the corner and arrived at the Gershwin Theater. Unsurprisingly, Va… Courtney, (or was it really Vanessa?) was talking excitedly to Amy Santos. That in itself was a little weird too. The media had said she had pretty much turned into a paranoid recluse after her husband's death, and here she was, chattering away.

"Everything seems so… artificial," she thought aloud to herself. And all this time, she had no idea she was exactly right.

Meanwhile, in the theater, in a dark room not marked on the map of the building, a few men were plotting away,

"So Burke, you seriously think we can just shoot her?" one guard asked.

"Yes Jackson, we can. Remember I was in the police, I can keep it quiet, nothing sweet cash can't fix," Burke replied confidently

Another guard piqued in, "What about that Vanessa girl? She's supposed to be a bodyguard; she might get in the way."

"Then shoot her if necessary. We start this as soon as we can. Amy definitely _knows._ If anybody knows what happened, they'll have to be eliminated, but she's the one we can kill here. Remember, all witnesses have to DIE!" Burke concluded.

---

Noah watched Courtney from the theater's security cameras. He was definitely nervous over what was happening at The Penthouse. After the Amy allergic reaction incident, Heather had decided to take Harold off the Outing. He hadn't seen Harold's reaction, as Heather had said he was on the Outing before she said Harold was off, but he had heard unintelligible shouting as well as glass shattering, so Noah thought it probably didn't end well. So now here he was, watching over Courtney. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and rehearsals were about to start.

Courtney read through the script one last time. There would be a rehearsal of two scenes and the rest of the day would be spent on choreography. Meanwhile, a couple doors down, six men were strapping pistols to their holsters and putting on body armor. From the van, Noah's mouth dropped open as one's mouth would in a bad play.

"Heather, we officially have something that defines life-threatening for Amy, Courtney, and a lot of others." Noah said while trembling over the direct phone link to The Penthouse, this was definitely going to get Heather mad if anybody got harmed.

"There's a gun two feet away from you, go in use it!" Heather shouted back over the phone, "It's in the smallest cabinet!"

Noah looked at the van's smallest cabinet at the top. Sure enough, a Beretta and three magazines were there. He grabbed them, attached one magazine to the handgun, shoved the other two in his pockets, and rushed out the door. At the same time, the men rushed out of the room, and on to the stage firing. The first bullets fired didn't make any hits, and just pierced the wood paneled walls while the actors dove for cover. Noah rushed in, holding the Beretta unsteadily.

"Don't shoot anybody," he tried to threaten, which was met with a sneer from one of the "guards."

"Yeah kid, have you ever used a gun?"

"No, but even new-born babies know _how_ to use one," Noah retorted, suddenly gaining a burst of confidence. The guard did nothing; he just grabbed Courtney off the floor, and held his particularly vicious looking gun against her head. Noah decided that was it, NOBODY shot Courtney, ESPECIALLY in the head! He fired the gun, and the guard crumpled to the floor, a hole between his eyes.

"Wow Noah! Lucky shot huh" yelled out a weirdly familiar voice. Noah saw Izzy then jump off the floor, punching another guard between the Noah saw Izzy then jump off the floor, punching another guard between the eyes while doing so, "Weird, I thought you disappeared with the others, y'know!

Noah said nothing he just fired another shot at a guard, which hit him in the leg, and he crumpled to the ground moaning. The rest had fled the stage, and one actor was holding out a cell-phone, and dialed three obvious digits. 911. Courtney, a few other actors, Amy, and the rest of the guards seemed to have left the stage. He ran for the door, ignoring Izzy take on two guards by herself. He pushed open the doors, and immediately saw Courtney run down the street just as the first flashing sirens turned the corner a few blocks down.

---

Amy turned left and ran; she was right all this time, the guards were trying to kill her. She found an alley a block down and took it. There, she found a smirking Burke, and two guards blocked the way she came. Burke opened his mouth,

"Amy, Amy, what are we going to do with you? You keep running into trouble."

"Why Burke, why?" Amy asked; it was all she could muster.

"You know about your husband's work, right Ms. Santos?"

"He worked for Microsoft, made coding or something like that," Amy replied feebly.

"You're right, and I came to him one day. I… _don't agree _with the government. So I went up to your husband and asked 'Mark, are you willing to make a computer virus? I want to crash The Pentagon's computer defenses.' He refused, and since he knew what I wanted to do, I had to kill him. Remember how you heard a muffler backfiring when he died, belonging to the car that hit him?"

Amy shook her head yes.

"That wasn't a muffler Amy. You heard what happened, so I have to kill you now," Burke said while raising a gun. Before he could he could shoot, the two guars at the alley's entrance suddenly fell over, revealing an enraged Courtney.

"NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE!!!" She screamed out as the protective bodyguard side of her Vanessa disguise came out. Burke fired a shot, but all it did was chip brick off a wall. Courtney pushed past Amy, and gave Burke a roundhouse kick. After giving him an extra punch. Burke crumpled to the ground, and Courtney continued to kick Burke savagely. Suddenly, a police squad quickly entered the alley, pushed past Amy and Courtney, and handcuffed Burke with out any words spoken.

---

"Heather, I believe that this mission was a success, in a weird way," Chris spoke to Heather in his office, "Amy was protected, even if Burke was behind it all. Turns out, he's John Gray, some crazy anti-everything nut job. He's been on the Most-Wanted list for ages, got away by having more plastic surgery than most Hollywood actresses. However, Harold's reaction to being assigned off The Outing scares me a little. That discussion showed that he might be psychotic; I'd either turn him into one of The Mannequins, or keep him on a _very _short leash Heather."

"Don't worry Chris; Harold wouldn't harm any of my Mannequins or staff. He knows the consequences. "

"If you insist Heather," Chris finished. He pressed the intercom button down, "Amanda, please escort Miss Reid to the elevator."

---

Harold smirked; Courtney dashed his raise hopes, so she would pay. He would enjoy that immensely.

"Courtney, will you please follow me?" he asked politely, but with slight malice.

Blank eyes turned towards him and stared, "Uh sure, okay."

Harold opened the door to an empty room; it was supposed to be for future Mannequins, whenever they'd have to get new ones. Courtney walked into the room, and Harold closed the door behind him silently.

---

The elevator doors opened, and Noah stepped out. Harold, who was leaning against the front desk, headed towards the elevator.

"Hey Noah, have fun on the night shift," Harold taunted, and Noah could see the pleased, almost crazy look on Harold's face for a few fleeting seconds before he entered the elevator and the doors closed. Noah headed for the Crown room, where he would monitor the Mannequins as they slept. Just before he got there, he heard a moan coming from one of the room they weren't using yet. _"Wait, what's going on here? Why does all the weird stuff happen while I'm around?" _Noah opened the door slowly to find Courtney on the floor battered and bloody on the floor. Next to her was a belt. Noah thought it was supposed to be brown, but for now it was sticky, wet, terrifying scarlet. He immediately ran up to her, getting his pants bloody as he kneeled down next to Courtney. He felt a few tears well up, but he blinked them back; he wasn't supposed to cry, he had heard _that_ plenty of times from his athletically oriented father.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, it was all he could do.

"Ugh, Noah, is that you?" Courtney asked weakly. Noah looked at her, her face was bruised, and her eyes were terrified. She definitely wasn't wiped, but he didn't care.

"It's good you're here," she continued, "You're the only one I trust in this madhouse."

"Wait, you know about The Penthouse? I'm sorry Courtney; I was forced into this too! I thought Heather was pulling a prank, and now look what's happened!"

"Heather's nothing, Harold, he's…he's…he's crazy." Courtney replied even more weakly. Noah wrapped his arms around Courtney and began to carry her to the clinic. Halfway there, she said,

"You know, you're different from everybody else here. You actually seem nice; Beth and Cody are robots, Heather's… Heather, and Harold, he's…he's…he's…"

"A monster." Noah finished.

"Yeah, a monster."

Noah opened the door of the clinic, and laid Courtney down on the first bed, ignoring how the sheets were now slowly getting stained with blood. Noah got a roll of gauze and medical tape and attached strips of gauze where she was hit with Harold's belt, which was everywhere, sparing no part of her body, showing his true sadism. Noah finished after a few minutes, and began to shut off a few lights so Courtney could sleep. Before turning off the light directly above her Noah went back over to her bedside and leaned over her.

"'Night Courtney, see you in the morning," Noah was met with a soft "okay", and Noah gently took her hand and kissed it, then left. Just before he turned off the last light, he heard a "Did I fall asleep?" from Courtney.

"You're about to," Noah replied, and he turned off the light.

---

I personally hated this chapter, but then again , I really don't like a lot of the stuff IU write and everybody finds it awesome… so it can't be that bad. Well, I hope you enjoyed that, and we have another Outing planned for the next chapter, Tdirm out!

_, _


	6. From Milk To Molasses

Okay, it's been a flat out eternity since I updated this, but I lost all confidence in this story. However, it's back on, and as we all know, there's a whole slew of stuff I need to answer, such as

Who's Heather's double agent?

Why the heck is Harold completely insane?

Is Izzy's counter-effort actually going to figure something out?

Find out in this exciting new installment of THE…PENTHOUSE! Or in the next couple of ones…

As you can see, I had a serious Chris moment. I own nothing; please don't get on me for it.

* * *

The Penthouse's infirmary was usually deserted, tending to minor cuts most of the time. However, Heather was a person who loved self-sufficiency very much, and essentially placed a small-scale hospital in the middle of it. Nobody thought it was ever going to be used, until last night. Courtney occupied one of the beds, with her eyes closed, barely conscious. The "medical staff" stood above her, namely Cody, Beth, and Noah.

"This is horrible. I don't quite know who did this, but I'm really freaked out right now," Beth said nervously.

"It was Harold," Noah murmured.

"Whoa, excuse me?" Cody exclaimed, some of his teenage awkwardness returning.

"Harold did it, it was all over his face when he left last night," Noah continued.

"It probably wasn't Harold, he wouldn't hurt people," Beth countered.

"I'd agree with Beth on this case," Heather said, sauntering into the infirmary, "Noah, I understand your willingness to point fingers, but I assure you, Mr. McGrady is one of my most trusted operatives and he does not do things like this to Mannequins."

Noah just stood there with a displeased look, and then continued to monitor Courtney's vitals. Cody and Beth followed Heather out the infirmary, to the great room. Lindsay was swimming, Trent and Gwen had a late breakfast, and the other Mannequins must have been in other rooms, as they weren't seen. Everybody was allowed a few minutes peace, then the doors opened, and three girls in their late teens ran inside, carrying a briefcase. Heather went behind the front desk, and the lead girl began to talk.

"Is this The Penthouse?" she asked.

"Yes, yes it is," Heather replied.

The girl was very blunt in saying "We want Duncan." Heather took this moment to notice that all three girls wore "I Love Duncan" t-shirts, and two of them had green streaks in their hair.

Another one of them piped up, "We even robbed a bank to get the money," she pointed to the case and giggled. Heather was more than a little scared, but clients were clients.

"So I take it you want Duncan's actual personality?"

"OH YEAH!" the third girl shouted, garnering a lot of attention. Heather picked up the desk's loudspeaker microphone,

"Duncan, I need to meet with you in the front room. Please come immediately."

Duncan came down the stairs, ignoring the "EEEE, it's him" and "I love you" directed at him, Heather took him to the Crown Room, and one could have heard the faintest scream if they were silent.

* * *

Izzy definitely was frustrated, she hadn't been able to do anything on Broadway. The "Wicked" reproduction had been canceled after Amy quit, and "Vanessa" had gone off the map. Izzy called her, she was never there, and the address she gave Izzy was false, as apparently nobody under her name lived in her building. Whoever she was, she was gone. So she was here, stuck in LeShawna's condo with Zeke while LeShawna went to work. Somebody had definitely pulled some strings, as people were saying that her firing wasn't even carried out by her boss. People were suspicious over what happened, but the whole thing was quickly forgotten. So she sat on the couch and decided that she had to do _something._ What that something was, she didn't know yet, but she left the house anyways to do it.

* * *

Chris sighed, and filed errantly through a stack of papers, which were supposed to go into his personal filing cabinet. Most weren't special, just lists of people who wouldn't survive the McClean/Turner merger. He wondered why he out himself up to this anyways. It was a lot more fun hosting "Total Drama." But money and connections were definitely important too, and Chris decided it probably still was best to run the corporation anyway. However, a revenue sheet caught his eye. Overall Revenue for the Penthouse Branch, it said. Chris scanned the sheet, seeing what exactly was going on over there. And it was a little… interesting to say the least. Chris pressed the loudspeaker button.

"Amanda, tell the valet to bring my car out. I have to go somewhere quick."

The secretary did not reply, Chris guessed she was on her phone, but finally said, "Car's coming Mr. McClean."

"Thank you Amanda."

* * *

Chris' Mercedes pulled up in front of the Aurora Building, and he quickly stepped out of the car, not even regarding the parking meter in that spot. Once through the revolving door, he walked to the elevator without even bothering to speak to Abby, who had her head down. The ride up to floor 32 was quick, and soon the doors opened. Harold was already at the front room, finalizing a few clients purchase of Duncan for 6 hours. Harold looked up as the girls grimaced and booed at seeing the ever-dreaded Chris McClean walk in, in a grey suit that didn't seem fitting to him after having the public see him in more interesting clothing.

"Oh, Mr. McClean, you need anything?" Harold asked, while the girls continued to stare and hiss.

"Yes Harold, I do. I have to speak with Heather _as soon as possible_," Chris replied, stressing the last words to indicate that he really meant right now.

Harold picked up the microphone, and set the signal for Heather's office, "Ms. Reid, Chris McClean's here. He wants to talk."

A reply came through quickly, "Sure Harold, send him in."

Harold nodded towards the nearest staircase, and went back to his clients. Chris went up the stairs, and looked around for Heather's office. After one of the most annoying minutes of his life, he found the door marked "Office", and opened it. Heather was going through documents, much as Chris was before he came here. He sat in the seat across from Heather, and she looked up.

"Is there a pressing reason why you have to be here Mr. McClean? Don't you have the legitimate side of McClean Corporation to run?" she said, much like she would have on Total Drama Island. Chris prevented himself from groaning, must everybody here have to be this rude? He would mention this, but it would make him sound like a grade school teacher. So he forgot it, and went back to his first issue.

"Heather, you know that you have command over all Penthouses worldwide, but are 50 necessary? You've driven the project over 10 million in debt. Do you think there's a market for that many Mannequins? People can afford them here, but what about other places?"

"Those Penthouses are less opulent than this one, and trust me, there are a lot of people who just want a person who'll do what they say. A lot of people in Toronto did, that individual Penthouse made over 120,000 dollars last month. This one has made 140,000 in the same period, and the ones in Shanghai, Rome, London, Tokyo, Miami, and Los Angeles had similar profits to Toronto. The other ones were opened last week, and word hasn't gotten out yet. Remember, we can't do a feel good ad campaign like the telecom branch."

Chris definitely felt embarrassed; he had just skimmed the reports and just saw the fact they hadn't made money.

"Besides, I'm laying off Penthouse openings after the one in Vancouver scheduled two days from now," Heather finished.

"Heather, you have to get these people from somewhere, how are you getting away with this? If you're caught, you may bring down everything that's been set up. We have to work cautiously here."

"I know. All Mannequins are coming from the States, and you know how Washington's wrapped around out fingers."

"Hmm, well, I guess everything's okay for right now. I'll be checking in you and your little projects every now and again, okay. But I don't want to have you in my office asking for your Penthouse debts hidden. Those new ones better be making money, am I clear?" Chris said as he got up.

"Crystal," Heather replied.

* * *

Izzy officially was even more bored than she was back at LeShawna's. She and Zeke had already done the touristy stuff a few days ago, and she was frustrated. It had been nearly a week, and she had found out nothing. So she just sat there on a bench in Central Park, waiting for something to happen. Things tended to work like that; she was sitting when she learned her stock in McClean Corporation had quadrupled in value overnight, and she had been sitting on a bench in the police station when Zeke offered to give her the life she currently had in the Yukon. So it wasn't really a shock to see Duncan walk right by her, flanked by three girls. Wait, Duncan had just walked by her! She quickly sprang up, and stealthily followed the foursome. She tuned out everything else going on right now and focused on the conversation between Duncan and the girls.

"So Dunky, do you like out little date?" one of the girls said flirtatiously.

"Sure, it's always great to have ladies fawn over me," Duncan replied arrogantly.

Izzy tried to restrain her breathing as one of the girls tried to restrain herself from fainting. This was Duncan! Right in front of her face! She'd hit the mother lode, and quite suddenly too. Izzy thanked God, fate, karma, or whatever else controlled the universe for this deux ex machina. One of the girls looked at her watch quickly.

"Oh crud," she said, "We have to get back now. I don't know about you, but I really don't think we should tick that Heather girl off, right?" The other girls agreed, and they started to leave the park. Izzy walked about ten feet behind them, hoping that they wouldn't notice. If these girls weren't Total Drama fans, which wasn't likely, they wouldn't know who she was. If they were… her little operation could fall apart. And if that happened, she wouldn't be able to exact justice on the madman... or woman that kidnapped her beloved island mates (barring Courtney of course. She would leave her behind no doubt, but what exactly would Duncan think…). And if she couldn't exact justice, she'd get imprisoned too or have her life ruined and then go all Kill Bill on random people. Her aunt Loretta did that, and she still was locked up! She quickly forgot about her worrying when she saw Duncan step into a taxi. She started walking down the road, as the traffic was so jammed, getting a taxi right now was useless. She kept her eyes on Duncan through the window as it slowly made its way down towards Battery Park, according to the local skyline. Finally, after several near losses of the taxi from Izzy's vision, and a near get out from the passengers, they arrived at a nondescript building. Izzy had what had to be the world's largest knot in her stomach, but she shook that feeling off as Duncan entered. As soon as Duncan went through the building's revolving doors, Izzy caught the name of the building, The Aurora Building. Izzy kept it in her mind for reference. She went through the revolving door herself to see Duncan through a closing elevator door with a man who looked like… HAROLD? This just got more and more interesting. A hostile voice broke her confusion,

"Ma'am, can I _help _you?" a woman asked from behind a desk, with a name tag that read "Abby" in front of her. Izzy wasn't sure whether to tell what she really was here for, but decided to do it anyway.

"Um yeah actually, I'm trying to meet up with that guy who just went in the elevator…"

"You want to go to the Penthouse? Hit the Floor 32 button, 'kay."

"Okay, thanks!"

Izzy entered to elevator, and pressed the Floor 32 button. While the doors closed, the woman behind the desk whispered something into a microphone solemnly. Izzy however, didn't see, and whipped out her cell-phone on the way up, and called Zeke. He didn't pick up, so she left a message.

"Hey Zeke, it's Iz. I think I've found Duncan and Harold. They're in this place called the Aurora Building and there was this lady who mentioned something called the…" Izzy was interrupted by a gun barrel being stuck in her face as the doors opened. Harold snarled at her. Izzy barely had the time to hit the end button before Harold wrenched the phone from her hand and began to drag her into the Penthouse.

"Hey, Harold, what's going on? It's me, Izzy, you know, from the show," she managed to choke out, definitely confused. Harold said nothing, just grunted.

"Seriously, don't you remember me? We pulled that epic prank on Duncan and Gwen on Chris' junky plane, I called you gross for leaving your underwear on the floor, I…" Harold slamming the butt of his gun into Izzy's forehead quickly knocked her unconscious. Before Harold could make it to the Crown Room, Trent entered. His eyes didn't have the blank stare of the other Mannequins, and he wasn't wearing the clothes laid out for him at the beginning of the day. His eyes widened at the sight of Izzy.

"Dude," he asked, "Why are dragging Izzy around? And where are we anyway? Did Chris…" Harold stopped walking and fired a warning shot upwards that buried itself into the ceiling. Trent began to run away, but he stopped. After a few seconds, he turned around, and he had reverted to Mannequin mode.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Uh, yeah," Harold replied, walking by Trent. Finally, he got in the Crown Room, and dumped Izzy onto the Crown itself. He walked over to the bank of computers, and hit the first command on the main computer. Then, if one bothered to stop and listen, they would have heard a faint electrical noise…

* * *

Geoff was annoyed. He and Bridgette were having a nice night, and then Zeke calls panicking over Izzy. So here they were, crammed into LeShawna's living room while Zeke breathed into a paper bag. However, Chef decided to voice his opinion first.

"Hey, Prairie Maggot, do explain why we're here again? Of course Izzy would disappear, SHE'S IZZY. Crazy girl probably is somewhere in Jersey by now. And for God's sake, quit looking weak!"

Ezekiel responded by putting the bag down and replying "Did you bother to listen to the message? She has to be in danger right now!" he proceeded to breathe in and out of the bag again.

Chef turned to Bridgette for an answer, "Surfer girl, do you know what he means by message?"

Bridgette, still not over her chronic fear of the ex reality show sidekick just stammered for a minute, angering Geoff.

"Don't freak my girl out," he responded, "And Zeke's talking about a message Izzy sent before she disappeared. Something about an "Aurora Building" and that she saw Harold and Duncan there. Then the message stops in the middle. It's kinda creepy man."

Chef voiced his sensibilities quite bluntly.

"Well why don't we just head over there and get Psycho Girl back?"

"NO!" Sierra was quick to respond, "I mean, they took Izzy, so what makes you think they won't nab you too? Nobody's invincible or infallible guys, we have to remember that."

"Sierra's right, we're going to need to get more info on this before we start storming the joint. We aren't the Secret Service, if we screw up, it's a felony," LeShawna reasoned.

Geoff frankly didn't care. He was sick of all this, and just wanted to head home. Zeke finally decided to adjourn the meeting.

"Okay everybody, you're all free to go, but I have a recommendation eh," Zeke opened a closet door, and sleeping bags tumbled out. "We really do need to stick together now, now that we're without our leader."

Geoff inwardly groaned and slumped against Bridgette; this was going to be a long "investigation."

* * *

"Director, why can't we take out McClean now? We can spin off their actual assets, and stop so many public menaces. But it's people like you who seem to think corporations are infallible. What's the deal here! I think there's a new Mannequin in the Penthouse by the way too," Abby said irascibly into the phone.

"Look Agent Clark, McClean can't be liquefied without serious ramifications. They developed half of our military software, and they said that if the company should go under, the networks would be shut down. We can't have that, even for a few months."

"It's stuff like this that the US Constitution specifically said shouldn't happen. Besides, some of what these people have come up with is actually a little scary."

"Exactly Agent Clark, if the Penthouses were proven to be more than an urban legend, people would panic. These whole "no violence" laws make it really hard to deal with panicking people these days."

"You know what… wait somebody's coming," Abby quickly dropped the phone as Noah walked by, apparently to handle the Penthouse's night shift.

"Hey Abby," he said while walking by. Abby greeted him back, and picked up the phone as he entered the elevator.

"You know what, I'm going to take McClean down by myself. And you can't send a single team to stop me, because I'm supposedly the watchdog. Well I've watched enough, and I'm biting."

Abby slammed the receiver down, and left her desk. She opened the door to what looked like a janitorial closet, and pulled a hanging broom down. The wall promptly spit out a handle through a patch of what looked like cracked concrete, and Abby opened the door to her sanctum.

* * *

The next morning, Heather noticed that Abby seemed irritated. She had seen videos of her, and frankly, didn't want to ask why she was angry. The elevator whisked her up to the Penthouse, and all her employees and half of the Mannequins, including new girl Izzy quickly noted her arrival.

"Listen up everybody," Heather barked out, "I'm going to put this bluntly because I don't have much time. The Penthouse in Vancouver is opening tomorrow, and I'm going to kick it off. That means I'll be gone for three days. _Harold's _in charge," she finished, glaring at Noah, "Any objections?"

Before anybody had a chance to answer, Heather strode out, leaving Harold with a very large knot in his stomach.

* * *

Rejoice! It is finished! And this whole plot thing moved along!!! I can assure you one thing, TP7's going to be… action-y. But that's all I can give you. Tdirm out!


End file.
